


Kiss the Cook

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-27
Updated: 2006-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been in this weird mood for gen fic lately.  Just a triple drabble in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Cook

Dom's cooking is something that has to be seen to be believed, Elijah thinks as he watches the man navigate the small space, his own back pressed to the back door to make himself as flat and unobtrusive as possible. It's an alley kitchen, not unlike his grandmother's back in Iowa, but this is New Zealand and Dom is _certainly_ not his grandmother, swirling white wine in a glass as he gestures wildly and throws onions in a pan and pale golden drops fly out and speckle the dirty linoleum floor but Dom doesn't seem to care as they soak into the soles of his bare feet. Dom is full of life, and Elijah smiles, watching him grab spices from the rack in their little glass bottles, unlabeled but Dom knows where everything is.

Once, when they were drunk and a little high to boot, Dom explained how he had been a sou chef, told stories of how he made his way up from sandwich assembly to line cook at the English equivalent of a greasy spoon to, finally, sou chef in a halfway decent restaurant in Manchester. Elijah had smiled at the conversation, at Dom's stories of how the guys in the kitchen would light a toke as they worked, and he mouthed "bloke" and "toke" together with too-sensitive lips and the giggles took a full minute to subside.

Dom is making pork, medallions with some sort of a mustard sauce bubbling away merrily in a small saucepan, and the aroma is heavenly. It would be more efficient to have full use of both hands, but no, that glass of Grigio is ever-present, colouring the conversation as the pinkish shade rises in Dom's cheeks and his lopsided smile grows wider, his uneven teeth visible as he swings the pan back and forth, flipping onions and peppers into the air with an impressive ease. A few veggies get away, littering the floor, but that's all right. Dom is a low-aggravation cook. Elijah lights a cigarette and puts his muscle into it as he shoves the little window up a few inches, the scent of the clove nevertheless mingling with the food. Quirks aside, Elijah decides that he likes this kitchen quite a lot.


End file.
